After a week or so of mild temperatures, Richmond is once again covered in a thin blanket of snow. Looking through some old pictures today I happened upon a few from this time 2009–and a day, in particular, when I introduced my northeastern-Pennsylvania-housemate and my upstate-New-York-bred-boyfriend to a recipe direct from some of my fondest childhood memories: snowcreme. A cotton-candy-sweet mixture of fresh snow, (soy)milk, a little sugar, and a pinch of vanilla extract, all whipped up in a stainless steel bowl, snowcreme is the finest confection old man winter can offer. Behold!:
I emphasize my friends’ places-of-origin because I was so baffled by their lack of awareness of something I, a Southerner with extremely limited snow experience, so delightfully cherished. For truly, my familiarity with the stuff only extended so far as the infamous Blizzard of 1993 (which has its own wikipedia page) and fewer than a handful of other pathetic dustings. My ever-clever momma taught me about snowcreme when the blizzard hit, seeking, as she might have been, a way to distract the six restless nine-year-old girls who’d just been snowed in at my birthday party. (Yeah, the biggest meteorological event of the decade happened a day after my ninth birthday.) How could two people who grew up with seasons of snow year after year never think to whip it up in a big bowl with some cold milk, sugar, and vanilla? Heavens to betsy! I exclaimed, in my mom’s accent, I’ve got to teach these boys something!
Ever the inappropriately under-dressed, over-confident belle, I trotted out to the back porch in one of my more laughable get-ups: thin pink nightgown over pumpkin-print pajama pants, protected by a red WECI hoodie. I harvested the primo first layer of fluffy snowdust from the back-porch railing, even as new snow continued to come down. (Protip: There’s a narrow window between when the snow falls and when it gets soggy, hardened, and yucchy–so time your collection well.) Befuddled onlookers snapped shots of my work from behind the screen door:
harvesting snow
at work
As you can see in the picture, I did some of the work with the snowcreme on the back porch, feverishly whisking the snow into a sweet soymilk and vanilla base. By the time I got back in the house it was ready to be served.
I can’t quite remember how my housemate & boyfriend described their first experience, but I’m pretty sure the words “transcedent” “miraculous” “glorious” and others from their heavenly ilk flowed like honey in the kitchen conversation that day. And it didn’t hurt that I’d just made some of Isa’s pumpkin oatmeal cookies from Vegan With a Vengeance, either…
Zoomie (my housemate) delighting in cookies
…or that I decided to make a chocolate-mint version of snowcreme with Vitasoy’s Chocolate Peppermint holiday soymilk:
Lucky housemates. The feast:
Snowcreme recipe, veganized:
- Whisk some soymilk (vanilla, chocolate, or peppermint!) in the bottom of a large stainless steel bowl with a little organic vegan sugar and a dash of vanilla extract
- Go get some snow. Preferably light, fluffy, and fresh. Scrape it off into the bowl. Whisk til the mixture thickens. Grab a stainless steel spoon and start to do more stirring, less whisking. Add a bit more milk as necessary. Eat!!
Adrienne, loved the post! And also loved that you were able to do photos of the finished product. When snow cream/creme is described to people who have never experienced it, they get a very perplexed expression on their faces. No idea what they’re imagining, but snow cream/creme does have a unique appearance when properly prepared. We so rarely get snow in East TN (where I live) these days that it’s been years since I’ve made or tasted fresh snow cream.
A fun fact – there’s a local dairy in Knoxville called Mayfield’s that makes….wait for it….Snow Cream ice cream, AND Snow Cream Popsicles! They only make it during the winter months, and it’s not quite the same, not quite as good as the homemade, fresh version, but it’s close!
Happy to know you, my friend & looking forward to reading more of your work!
~ Dawn
My Dearest Adrienne,
I am SO honored by your latest musings! Is there a better daughter in the whole wide world? I thought I would share with you how events of the reading unfolded: As I scrolled down the page, reading and enjoying every moment of it, I came to the pictures of a porch with a body scraping snow off the aforementioned porch. And then I began to think (it became darn near my latest pronouncement to the cats) “Why does my porch look like that? There is no yellowish looking garage in my yard! Why does….” etc. This internal dialogue took about 10 seconds but it was 10 of the most confused seconds of my life. And then I exclaimed, “That’s not me! That’s Adrienne!” :) Not only do you honor me by recreating moments from your youth in and at your present life and home, but you DOUBLY honor me by continuing a tradition taught me by your Great-Grandmother and my own Granny Harris: That it is perfectly acceptable by all ‘Standards of Gentle Southern Women’ to trot out to the back porch in one of your more laughable get-ups with your only care in the world being the determination of purpose to create one of the finest concoctions ever known to mankind! As descendents of “Ever the inappropriately under-dressed, over-confident belle”(s), you represent your heritage very well! Did I mention I couldn’t be more honored? Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…….And I’m positive it was the best “SnowCreme” ever!
Peace and Abundant Blessings,
Meesar
oh man, I read this post and was really excited because there was snow in the forecast for tomorrow, but the weather powers have since changed their minds. sigh. I wish I’d read this before our December blizzard, but thank you for sharing with my snow-newbie-self, and can’t wait to try it later this winter. yum!
Snowcreme! A delightful recipe for those of us new to snowy climates–and also for those of us who don’t know our way around a stove…